Due to a cruel obsession with torture, stress, and unnecessary complexity, Emily and Dan have decided to suffer through the bitter cold of North western China and the pain of cycling through southeast Asia before returning home and trying to rebuild a life in recession-plagued USA.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

XINING - Rammed-earth temples and a bottle of AK-47 Russian Vodka

January 8-9, 2011Eng: Xining, Qinghai, ChinaChn: 西宁，青海省，中国

Written by Dan

We are still in the western part of China so the sun does break thehorizon until 9am. Although it was 6:30am, it felt like night time andwe were ready for bed. In the dim light of the Bus Station we couldsee that faces and dress code had changed drastically from the Muslimwhite caps for men and lace head coverings for women. We were groggybut we could tell that we had arrived at the frontier for travel toand from Tibet. We expected to see foreign backpackers but all we sawwere Tibetan families in huge colorful robes, wooly hats and cowboyboots. We later found out that most of the travelers in these areasare Tibetans themselves making pilgrimages to the various holytemples.

Excited to learn more and follow some of these pilgrimagesourselves, we remembered our need to drop off bags and rest, so wehopped in a taxi and headed to the Sunshine Pagoda Youth Hostel.We were originally planning on going to a hostel known as abackpacker favorite and for its sister adventure travel operator. Itwas opened and operated by Americans but we found out that it recentlyclosed because it's most recent guests were part of Fr** Tib*t and thelocal gov't found them guilty by association and so deported itsowners. This should give you a glimpse of the increasing clampdownagainst foreigner travel in and around the Tibetan region – so ifyou're thinking of going, do it sooner than later.

Anyway, we were perfectly happy with our final resting place. TheSunshine Pagoda Hostel is located inside a complex of bars, coffeeshops and restaurants made to look like an ancient Chinese courtyard.The interior of the hostel was full of wooden chairs and tables,Tibetan handicrafts, and pictures of the owner's own travels throughout China. We woke up the owner, Lin Sai, at 7:00am on a Saturdaymorning and were shown to our room – a windowless box with a big bedand a TV. But it was so warm and there was a bed so we were happy.While chatting we found out that Lin Sai grew up in Hangzhou and wasvery familiar with Moganshan – we got instant cool points.We took hot showers and hung our still-wet clothes from Dunhuang onthe radiator in the public bathroom. Dan took a nap and then thebiggest dump of his life. And finally at 10:00am, we decided it wastime to explore the city.

In the common room we got out the map and started to plan. We knewwe wanted to hit the local coffee shop for another caffeine fix and tosee "Bei Shan Si Tu Lou Guan" which are the rammed-earth temple andBuddhist caves on the mountain at the north border of the city. Butdespite our planning, we got distracted between having some milk tea,Dan going to patch the hole in the crotch of his pants, Em skypingwith her parents, and Dan trying to memorize all the street names. Wefinally got on our way at noon but this turned out to be more thanenough time to see the city.

On our way to Bei Shan (North Mountain), we stopped for someawesome noodles with beef and veggies – the Chinese Muslim version ofPasta Primavera but with chunks of beeeeeeeeeef. With full bellies wesauntered through a construction materials market and past the traintracks until we hit the Temple. We went up through the Buddhist templeand found a set of REALLY steep steps behind it leading up to thecaves and a mysterious pagoda. We would have had the entire mountainto ourselves to explore in quiet had it not been for Emily climbing upthe steps slowly on hands and knees due to her fear of heights – aspectacle that attracted comments and eventual kidnapping by a pair ofChinese men, one of whom looked like a cherub and clapped his hands,jumped up and down and squealed every time he saw something he liked.

In actuality, our kidnappers were very sweet guys who wereinterested in our story and teaching us about the history as well asthe local flora of the mountain (unfortunately it was all in Chineseso again we leave a historic Buddhist cave site not knowing much aboutit). The only problem was that they wanted to take paths lesstraveled. Dan, of course, liked the 'extreme off-road single track'but Emily was forced to get back down on her hands and knees, or slideon her butt every time she went extreme downhilling.

We finally arrived just below the mysterious pagoda only to be yelled at by alady up above to turn back – our kidnappers postulated many reasonsfor the denial of access, among which were a secret army base and ahuman psycho-rehabilitation research facility. Seeing this as anopportunity to shake our partners in crime, Dan used Emily's fear ofheights as an excuse to part ways with the lovely Chinese men and tooka shortcut down the mountain. They accepted and we parted ways only tomeet them on the supposed shortcut 5 minutes later as they passedEmily sliding down the dirt path an inch per minute. We wereembarrassed and merely exchanged awkward glances.

Just below the entrance to Bei Shan

Finally, down the mountain we hopped in a cab and headed to the Green House Coffee Shop in the 'International Quarter'. We sipped alcoholic coffee and ate pumpkin cheesecake while we read O Magazine in silence and watched a guy who looked exactly like Paul Janiczek (afriend of the Moy's who accompanied them on China family reunion tour2009). We jokingly wondered if Paul had actually stayed without telling anyone. Dan finally got to talk to 'Xining Paul' when he was referred to ask him about buying a Tibetan phrasebook. Xining Paul was useless but Emily says he was secretly comparing her to his ownChinese girlfriend who was standing by his side.

Anyway, we finally left and decided to walk off the sweets. Along the way, we felt a hankering for booze and stopped in numerous supermarkets to look for western hard liquor. Dan almost purchased an obviously Chinese rip off of Jack Daniels but eventually decided toforgo the almost certain headache the following morning.

Just before we returned to the hostel we stopped at a small corner shop and bought a bottle of AK-47 vodka and orange juice. We determined to have a bit of a pre-drink at the hostel before hitting up the bars and clubs in our little courtyard. As soon as we walked into the hostel, we were greeted by a group of guests and the owner Lin Sai who invited us to share in their spread of food, beer, red wine, and Chinese spirits. We gladly agreed and added our fancy vodka to the mix. We hadn't eaten dinner yet but weren't hungry either and so we joined in with the intention of moving on soon after.

But the people and the conversation were so intriguing, one of the guys was aTibetan (our first) doctor who had studied at Berkeley in the USA and was one of the curators of the Tibetan Medicine museum in Xining. Another guy was the owner of a bar in Lhasa, Tibet. The third was a guy we came to know as Leo who was just a traveling telecommunications worker who could work from anywhere via his laptop. There was also aFrench guy who was studying Mandarin in Beijing and Lin Sai herself who eventually explained to us that she ran one of the first Chinese Outdoor Adventure clubs in Guangzhou and fell in love with Tibet so she opened a hostel here.

What started out as a few drinks turned into many and a mix of all the different liquors. Finally, Leo and Dan sipped down the last drops of the bottle of Vodka as we realized itwas midnight. We decided it was too late to go eat and we were too drunk to go out for more drinks so we just retired to bed. Dan, as always when he's drunk, stripped down to his boxers and wandered the halls of the hostel until he found a toilet and took another dump.

We woke up the next morning feeling less than well and packed our bags as best we could. With our giant packs in tow, we dragged ourselves out to the common room to check some last emails and check out. While saying our final goodbyes, Lin Sai gave us some great tipsabout Tongren, our next stop.

Tongren is known for its artists who paint the intricate 'Thangka' which adorn the halls of Buddhist temples. This type of art began over 300 years ago and Tongren artists are considered the best in the trade. Their works get commissioned from temples and individuals all over the world. To give you an idea, a postcard size Thangka painting takes about 1 month to paint and costs at least 300rmb ($50 USD). Most of them are poster sized and can cost between 3,000rmb ($500 USD) and50,000rmb ($7,000 USD).

Lin Sai told us about the rare opportunity of staying with a local Thangka artist who lives in a monastery known for producing the best Thangka artists in the area and possibly in the world. We obviously accepted and set out on our way to Tongren.

Once outside, the pain of the alcohol hit bad and so we sat down for some warm porridge to sooth our bellies. After eating we were still uncomfortable so we decided to walk the 3km to the bus station with our 15kg (33lb) bags for some fresh air – we weren't ready to geton a windy bus yet.

At the bus station we were only able to get a ticket for later in the afternoon, so we stored our bags and checked out the Tibetan market. Wow! We were amazed by the plethora of Tibetan robes, bags, candle holders, cowboy boots, horse saddles, horse panniers (notsuitable for our upcoming bike trip), and giant belts with live bullets. After debating whether or not to buy just about everything, including a Tibetan Hanukah menorah with the requisite 9 candle holders, we barely made it to our bus and set off for the wild westartistic cowboy town of Tongren…